I was listening to a podcast recently, and the host shared a metaphor about weathering life’s storms. They described it as being a rock in a tumultuous river—letting the twigs hit you, letting the water swirl around you, but staying steady. It captured me at first,  you know I love a good metaphor. But then my next thought was… how boring. A rock?

Being the victim in our life’s story, now that’s dramatic. There’s an allure to the chaos it brings—a sense of justification, even. Who doesn’t love a compelling arc in their narrative? It pulls you in, but ultimately, it spits you out. Living as the victim will never serve you. Sure, it feels right and just sometimes, but eventually, we all come to realize that even those who’ve hurt us were just doing the best they could—just as we are.

This doesn’t diminish the reality of pain, trauma, or suffering. These are true, valid, and inevitable parts of life. But the absolute power lies in what we do with them—how we transmute and transform our suffering. It’s in the cycles we break, the words we choose not to speak, the hands we keep from causing harm. That’s where we step into the role of the creator.

Lately, I’ve been rethinking that rock metaphor. I’d rather be a house—vibrant, full of life and memories, cozy and sweet. When storms roll in, I’d shut the door, close the windows, and prepare. But life doesn’t come with meteorologists. We don’t get storm warnings. So how do we prepare for the unpredictable?

A mental health hygiene routine is our way of weather-proofing the house. Just as you brush your teeth or shower daily without a second thought, what are you doing to care for your mind? Maybe it’s meditating for a few minutes each day. Maybe it’s journaling in the morning. Could be a listening walk, an intentional run. Whatever it is, it’s the steady maintenance of your inner space, your sanctuary. Because here’s the truth: storms are coming. They always are. The only certainty in life—much like the weather—is uncertainty. So, how will you prepare?